Running in circles
by livbishop
Summary: Set immediately after series finale. No matter how much Rachel manages to achieve, she always wants more out of life. Quinn feels like her life is an eternal circle that never finds closure. The timing never seems to be right for their frienship, but Rachel's not going to let that stop her from reaching out for Quinn anymore. Rated M for later.
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys! I'm not sure what this is. It might be just this, it might continue. It's just a few things that I feel were left undiscussed between them and I wanted to start unravelling. Hopefully there's more to come. Happy reading!

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Last week had been a hell of an emotional rollercoaster for Rachel. Going back to McKinley always was, but given the reason that had brought all the New Directions back together, it had been even harder to keep her emotions at bay.

Well, truth was, she always had a hard time doing that. Rachel Berry wasn't one to run away from her feelings, no matter how overwhelming they got. Ever since she was a child and suffered unceasingly the bullying from her McKinley classmates, she had learned that those same emotions of fear, pain and disappointment were an incredibly strong source of drive for everything else in her life. Not only her performing, but also building up her character and inner strength, which had turned out to be firmer than she had expected.

This time, though, this small reunion with the New Directions in homage of Finn and the naming of the auditorium on his honor, had left her unexpectedly shaken. Mostly, because she hadn't seen most of the glee kids in almost five years, with the exception of Kurt, Blaine, Tina, Kitty and Artie. The fact that a few months of briefly coaching Kitty in the glee club had earned her what appeared to be a life-long friendship kept stunning Rachel. She wasn't used to people sticking with her that long. The Unholy Trinity had been a clear example of that.

Not that she had ever been particularly close to Brittany – although the sweet blonde had always been the kinder to her, and continued to be – but Rachel couldn't help but feel bitter that her well built and hard worked friendship with Santana during their Bushwick days hadn't really lasted.

It had been something "easy" to shake off when she had been able to blame it on the distance. The Latina girl and Brittany had moved to Florida, where they coached one of the most successful cheerleader teams of the NFL. And they looked happy. Rachel had always thought that Santana's true ambitions aimed higher than coaching cheerios… but, as it turned out, Santana's true ambition had always been just to be close to Brittany, and on that she had certainly succeeded. And Rachel felt happy for her. And for Brittany.

That was why when planning her trip to Lima, Santana had been one of the persons Rachel had been looking forward to seeing the most. She had always assumed, during these last silent years, that their friendship would be one of those rare, special cases where you see your friend after five years of silence and _everything is as if you neve_ _r said good-bye_.

That wasn't how greeting the girl had felt, though. Santana had returned her excited hug with rush and slight coldness, moving right away to the next glee kid to hug in line.

Well, maybe Rachel was being a little dramatic – it wouldn't be the first time. Truth was the girl had smiled at her, even asked her how she had been, but after two minutes she had moved to talk to Puck and they hadn't found the chance to talk anymore.

And that was when it hit Rachel: whenever the New Directions had been together, truth was Santana and her had never hanged out. It had always been Rachel, Tina, Kurt and Mercedes on one side, then the Unholy Trinity and the guys on the other. Well, at least that was how it had been when she attended McKinley as a student. The picture now was slightly different.

Tina, Blaine, Sam and Artie seemed to really have bonded on their senior year together, and even if they made her feel welcome, they also made her feel like she was missing on something.

Kurt and Mercedes clearly adored each other's company, and it seemed like they had to make up for the last years, so whenever they weren't just gossiping and laughing really hard, they were surprisingly hanging out with the new kids, the ones Rachel and he had coached and the ones Rachel had been too self-centered to even get to know: Puck's brother, Unique, the guy who used to sport the old Bieber hairdo and the girl with the great voice whose name Rachel couldn't quite remember either. Kitty had joined them too, and she looked really happy to be on their company. And Rachel had followed her, unsure of where else to stand with her husband. Mr. Schue had been too polite to cut her ramblings short about her new play, but his longing glances at Sam and Blaine had told her enough, so after twenty minutes, Rachel had let him go.

She knew she was being just silly, really, but it was the strangest thing. Even if she was now a full grown 26-year-old married woman, a successful Tony-award-winning actress and the main lead on the new Sondheim play - nothing of that seemed to matter. Not when it came to McKinley. It was extremely bittersweet the way those halls made her feel home, and loved, but all the same time like the eternal outcast.

She closed her eyes briefly and took it to her rational, logic self: this was a feeling she hadn't had in a while and probably almost forgotten, so she should commend it to heart and keep it alive, for every emotion was always fuel and could be channeled on stage. She reaffirmed herself on the strong belief that Rachel Berry wasn't afraid of her emotions. They were her drive.

A knock on her shoulder reminded her that her eyes were still closed. She startled and turned around to be greeted with an ever stunning Quinn Fabray.

"Hey, Rachel" the blonde smiled.

Rachel stood perplexed for a second or two, the emotion she had been trying to store still somewhat present.

She obviously hadn't forgotten about Quinn. But if the loss of Santana's friendship made her feel bitter, the loss of Quinn's just never quite kicked in. Rachel had seen it coming. Mostly, because their friendship had been a bit of a short-running show. Too good to be true, probably. In which universe could Rachel Berry become friends with the prettiest, most popular girl in school?

Once again, Rachel caught herself feeling small, but this time there was someone in front of her, waiting for her to speak, to articulate some words, so she let the emotion slip off her senses and put on a smile. She didn't feel bitter towards Quinn. Just lucky there had been a time when they had managed to be friends, despite how briefly.

"Hey, Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed and automatically went for a hug – there had been a lot of hugs that day, even with Sue, which had shocked her profoundly.

Quinn looked surprised for a moment but thankfully returned it. That did annoy Rachel – the way Quinn or Santana kept startling or feeling surprise when Rachel hugged them. As if Rachel was going out of her way of something. As usual, too, Rachel shook the annoyance off.

"So" Quinn's eyes showed slight uncertainty, although her confident presence was still there, unaltered. "How you've been?"

There was always some restraint on Quinn's words. Not just with her, but with everybody, Rachel always noticed. Some well-hidden study, which Rachel used to translate as intelligence. She had always believed Quinn to be smarter than pretty – and she was _very_ pretty.

But what it used to look like conscious superiority – about her intelligence, her beauty – now it looked somewhat old and unnecessary. It had been five years. High school was long over, and it seemed to Rachel that it was just mature to feel no need to be so guarded.

However, it made her feel somehow closer to the blonde. Like, it was also nice when people didn't change that much. It gave you the false impression that you still knew them – if she had ever known Quinn Fabray at all, that was.

"I've been good, thank you for asking" Rachel smiled sincerely. Quinn nodded, and Rachel took it as she was welcome to elaborate on that. "I've been starring on the off-Broadway production of the new Sondheim play, which I imagine you might've heard by now" Rachel considered for a moment. She didn't like being redundant or boring people with small, non transcendent chit-chat. Quinn's lip wrinkled slightly – a sign Rachel still remembered meant the girl had no clue was she was talking about, therefore felt uncertain. And Quinn Fabray didn't feel uncertain very often. "Your hair's longer, I notice, which suits you well, of course – but, if you ask me, I think short-hair suited you even better. Even if it might have seemed an impulsive, little conscious decision at the time, I think you've never looked more… well, you" Rachel couldn't help but observe then. Quinn's hair was a thing of beauty.

Quinn laughed spontaneously then, which Rachel wasn't used to see so close. She had seen Quinn laughing before, of course; but normally at a distance. They had never been the kind of friends that had fun together, sadly. Rachel liked to think the reason was their friendship had been of a deep, more mature kind. And, even if she was happy with that thought, she now had to admit – if only to herself – that laughing with the girl was nicer. Even if she had no idea what the laughing was about.

"My God, Rachel – you haven't changed in the slightest" Quinn explained, still smiling, and Rachel noticed there was no resistance or restraint now.

Rachel returned the smile but it was a small one. "I appreciate your fondness on that, but I'd be sad if that was entirely true" she admitted, still smiling politely. "I'd like to believe I'm a more mature person now."

Quinn frowned amused first, then stopped laughing. "Of course" the girl nodded, placing a hand on the brunette's arm. "I'd like to believe we all are" the blonde added, half-joking, then pointed with her head at Noah, who was making his silly saw-dancing-moves for a very unimpressed Lauren Sizes, who kept chatting with Brittany, under the boring yet annoyed glance of Santana.

Rachel laughed, then remembered. "Oh, how did it go with Noah? Are you guys still dating?" A part of her had always rooted for the two of them, although right now she couldn't remember why.

Quinn laughed spontaneously again. For the _second_ time. "Please, Rachel" the girl folded her arms, then regarded Puckerman with such condescension that Rachel was surprised that look hadn't been aimed at her instead. "I'm just surprised he's not wearing that uniform today" she shook her head.

Well, _this_ was refreshing. Quinn Fabray joking, once again. "Yeah, I may have had something to do with that" Rachel pondered. "I had a very serious talk with him when he showed up at my wedding with _that_ thing" she recalled.

Quinn looked at Rachel amused, then her gaze fell down momentarily and her lips pursed as if looking for some words they wouldn't find somewhere else. "I should have loved to see that" she finally commented, kindly.

Rachel shook her head, cheerily. "Oh, I just told him that enough was enough" she joked. "That we all get that he's on the Air Force. I didn't tell him that makes me worry deeply about the security of our country – I thought it better to leave that out, it was a day of celebration, after all."

"I meant your wedding, Rachel" Quinn corrected her, amused. "I've had my fair share of conversations with Puck about the uniform and the Forces, _thank-you-very-much_ " she said without hiding her disapproval about her ex-boyfriend habits, once again. The girl was giving Noah the look of doom, and _oh boy_ , Rachel thought then, _it must be scary to have you as a girlfriend_.

"Oh, don't mention it – I got your card and present" Rachel assured her. Some really lovely and stylish Arabic vases for her newly-weds apartment that were always on display on the living room. "I wrote you back with my appreciation, didn't I?" Rachel panicked momentarily. It was unlike her to have left someone out of her thank-you-letters. How rude of her!

"Of course you did" Quinn said, and Rachel felt relieved. "A very sweet and effusive letter" the girl pointed out playfully, but Rachel decided to see no malice on that. "But seriously" her tone changed, "I'm sad I didn't get to see you in white. What is it about me missing your weddings?" The girl had the humor to say.

It took Rachel a few seconds to get it, then she made a dramatic and disturbed face. "Quinn!" Rachel called her out but failed to sound authoritarian, which only made the blonde laugh. "Don't joke about that!"

Quinn gave her a knowing smile then and Rachel found herself relaxing. Just like that, Quinn had managed to turn a subject that Rachel used to consider of a certain awkwardness between them into a thing that belonged in the past. Both girls knew that had not Quinn got into that tragic car accident, Finn and Rachel would've probably got married. And, while letting go of the past was neither easy nor necessary, you could always treat it with a little bit of decency and humor.

After all, Finn was the reason they were all gathered there today. Hell, Finn was probably the reason that the heterogeneous first glee club had happened. Had he not joined the New Directions, Quinn would've never joined them either, nor Puck, nor Mike.

And though his loss was still painful at times for Rachel, the need to talk about him was even more painful sometimes. Not that she couldn't – she talked about him every now and then with Kurt, with Sam, with her parents even. But never with Quinn, and Rachel failed to see the reason.

Now, with that simple, natural joke of the blonde, she felt like she could, though.

"You think _he_ would've liked this?" Rachel asked, impulsively. She realized shortly after she hadn't specified 'Finn', but she hoped Quinn would get it. She actually needed an answer to this.

Quinn didn't answer right away, though. The girl held Rachel's inquisitive stare and studied her response. The girl suddenly lost some of that spontaneity she had been showing, but Rachel guessed it was just natural.

"I think so" Quinn finally said, confident. She looked around then. "I was a little afraid to come today myself" she admitted. "I don't like pity-parties, but I'd say we managed to turn his memory into a reason for celebration. I mean – look around" the girl's gaze wandered along their peers, and Rachel followed her, "everyone looks happy. This was the good kind of tribute."

Rachel felt oddly comforted, at least about the 'everybody looking happy' part. She couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning on Quinn's last words, though. _The good kind of tribute_. Rachel remembered Quinn hadn't attended the first tribute they ever made on Finn's honor, just weeks after his passing.

"Everyone looks happy, yeah" Rachel simply agreed, though. That was all that mattered. "Are you – happy?" She found herself asking, then, unable to control the impulse.

Quinn looked unaltered, thankfully. "I guess" the girl shrugged. "I mean – if this is as happy as it gets, then _well_ , it's not bad" she smiled politely, somewhat satisfied.

Rachel regarded her with intrigue. Part of her didn't think Quinn had it in herself to reach a satisfied mind. Not in her twenties, at least. She wished her well, of course, but if there were three things Rachel had always seen on Quinn, those were intelligence, beauty and sadness.

But the girl looked sincere. Her answers were well-thought and careful as usual, but not bitter, for bitterness was a hard thing to hide. Rachel supposed that maybe Quinn was a bit more mature now. And it suited her well.

There was a small silence between them, as if they suddenly were the kind of people who could stood next to each other in comfortable acquiescence.

"What about you, _Rach_?" Quinn turned her gaze on the brunette girl then, and Rachel felt so caught up on reading the blonde's smallest gestures that the moment felt unexpectedly close. "Are you happy?"

Words got stuck on Rachel's throat. It was a funny thing coming home. You caught yourself taking on old habits you had long ago forgotten. Like the way Rachel studied with fascination Quinn's corporal language. It made her feel fairly awkward – it was one thing to fangirl about Barbra, Patti or Dianne Keaton, but Quinn… Rachel was not ashamed to admit she could appreciate fairly enough women. She admired women with talent, intelligence and drive. She always had. She supposed then that her brain couldn't tell the difference between celebrities or old high-school classmates. It was just women.

"I wish I could borrow your answer" Rachel said, feeling somewhat guilty. It was not an easy question to answer, yet that hadn't stopped her from asking Quinn. "Although I do hope it gets better than this" she thought out loud.

Quinn looked at her surprised, but didn't say anything.

Rachel sighed, holding her hands together behind her back. "I just want too many things too bad" she half-lamented, half-joked.

Her ambition had already played against her in the past, and yet she always caught herself wishing for more. More interesting parts to play. Better crafted scripts to do a movie on occasion. Better nails, like Quinn's. Quinn had really nice hands and nails. But she was deflecting – she just wanted more. More than Broadway. It stunned her, that even after screwing everything up with _Funny Girl_ and _That's so Rachel_ , she still secretly hoped for her one big chance to make it big on the screen.

"Oh, that's not so surprising" Quinn smiled knowingly then. "You've always been very ambitious. I'd personally feel let down if you weren't anymore" she commented like no biggie, but Rachel felt slightly shaken.

The way she saw it, there was a time for wanting more and a time for seeking a satisfied mind, like Quinn seemed to have reached herself. And Rachel, well, Rachel had already achieved a lot. So when would she find some peace of mind as well?

"What about the domestic life" Quinn interrupted her thoughts. "How's that working out for you?" There was a slight hint of skepticism on her tone, but Rachel couldn't be too sure.

"Oh, that's a work-in-progress" Rachel joked, looking for Jesse with her gaze. "I've never really enjoyed the idea of living with a man, to be honest. I'm feeling inclined to believe that my dads and Kurt are the only clean, tidy men I'll ever meet. Not that Santana was any better, but she was fun" Rachel added on a positive note. She missed living with her. "Jesse is a mess by principle. He believes all artists ought to live in chaos, as a way to increase their creativity" she shook her head, annoyed.

Quinn clicked her tongue softly, with disdain. "He never was the smartest."

"Oh, no, he's a genius" Rachel nodded emphatically. She had always believed her husband to be a genius, and even if she regarded Quinn's opinion worth consideration, she did not believe the girl to have the sensitivity that artistic minds like Jesse's required in order to be understood.

Quinn just rolled her eyes. "I never took you for someone who'd use words that lightly" she commented with certain malice. "Just tell me that you're on birth-control?" The blonde inquired, and if Rachel didn't know any better, she would've have translated her look as concern, but she did.

The question took Rachel a little bit off-guard, nonetheless. "I am" she confirmed. "I'm not looking forward to delivering more babies any time soon" she joked, then remembered she was talking to Quinn Fabray.

A cold smile grazed Quinn's lips. "Good. So, have we finally closed the circle now?"

How strange life could get. How cyclical. Shelby had delivered Rachel to her dads, and Quinn had delivered Beth to Shelby. Now, to close the circle, Rachel had delivered a beautiful baby girl to Kurt and Blaine. Yet another sensitive point she and Quinn had never discussed properly. Until now.

Rachel felt the situation getting weirdly intimate again, more awkward than tense. She wondered if any of their peers would be discussing death and surrogate mothers as well. Somehow she found it unlikely.

"I believe we have" Rachel said, suddenly embarrassed. Something on Quinn's tone told her that the blonde didn't approve of her being a surrogate. "I think there's some balance to it, don't you?"

Quinn didn't look very convinced. Her smile had turned sarcastic. "Do you find comfort in that?"

Rachel realized then that the conversation had gone sour at some point and she hadn't been fast enough to stop it. There was a few inches between them now, but the distance felt wider, and cold. Had she upset Quinn somehow?

"I- uh" Rachel noticed she shouldn't have opened her mouth until she knew what to say, because now she was just babbling. Quinn looked at her once more, and Rachel could feel her cold, sad green eyes resting her weight on her own. It felt heavy. "I do" she admitted. "Not that I need to – I'm happy with my choices."

Quinn's eyes faltered and then left Rachel's. She sighed and looked lighter again. "You just never doubt your judgment, do you?" She asked, intrigued.

Rachel had to study her face for a couple of seconds to understand that there was no hostility in her words. Then she noticed that it was a rhetorical question, as Quinn continued talking.

"I've always envied that about you, Rachel" the blonde commented, swinging her legs lightly so her dress would move along, almost playfully. It looked like Quinn was going to add something else, but then she didn't, and Rachel missed her opportunity to speak up: "Anyway, it was nice seeing you again" Quinn stopped swinging and her honest, almost fond smile was back. She squeezed Rachel's arm lightly. "Take care and stick to those pills" she joked.

Rachel smiled back and nodded, unable to say anything else. She, the ever articulated Rachel Berry, unable of formulating a simple 'you too'. _How rude!_

"You too, Fabray" a male voice stated over Rachel's shoulder. A pair of lips rested softly on her cheek then, and Rachel recognized Jesse's scent over her skin, which felt warmer than usual.

Quinn just nodded and disappeared behind Sue and Sheldon. Rachel tried to follow the blonde with her gaze but Jesse stood up in front of her then.

"Ready to leave?"

Rachel felt uncertain, looked around once again and noticed a lot of the glee kids had left already. "Yeah" she guessed.

But she wasn't. There were so many words and thoughts still floating right there where Quinn had stood just seconds ago. A lot of things they had never dared to talk about before, were laying now on the table, bare and vulnerable, merely touched and waiting for more.

Rachel shook her head, slightly annoyed at her disability to let things be. Why did she always need more? She hadn't even come to the reunion hoping for a rapprochement with Quinn – so why did it feel now like the whole evening had been about that?

She felt guilty. For all those years of silence between them, as if they had nothing to talk about. No soar subjects, no sensitive points. When the truth was, there was nothing but that.

Had they really closed the circle?

And that was how, one week later, on her Brooklyn apartment, Rachel was sitting in front of her computer, looking for Quinn's profile on Facebook. And this was anything but an impulsive decision. No, she had thought this through.

She had fought the annoying voice on her head that told her that she was delusional. That even if she believed it certain that there were things left to discuss with Quinn, who said the blonde would feel the same?

That voice only got sharper when Rachel argued that she wasn't just looking for a conversation. Truth was, Rachel didn't feel confident that the next time she stood next to Quinn she would dare to bring up all those things.

What Rachel was looking for, truly, was a chance to make things right with the blonde. That long forgotten project of a friendship that they had started to build on their senior year – only to ignore it completely as soon as they left Lima – felt urgent now.

Rachel had always been convinced that Quinn and she had the potential to be friends. _I mean_ , how could two people whose lives were so entangled be nothing more than acquaintances? Liked it or not, they would always be part of a particularly creepy circle. And being a part of that circle could be an unbearable thing without a friend.

The only thing that worried her, really – other than the possibility of Quinn ignoring her message – was the investment of energy that a "new" friendship supposed. That was the way Rachel was when it came to friendship – all in. And the blonde wouldn't be any different.

 _Dear Quinn,_

 _I hope this message finds you well spirited. I, for my part, couldn't feel more uplifted this week. My new play has received official confirmation to move to Broadway next month, to the Majestic Theatre – so you can imagine my excitement. If not, just picture us winning Nationals all over again and you might get an idea._

 _I believe, too, that the motive of my writing to you might be also considered uplifting, if you may. Even though I loved and enjoyed catching up with you on Lima, it only made me realize how much was left unsaid. For instance: how could I be so unapologetically self-centered as to no inquire for your whereabouts? Last I knew from you is that you were working on a law firm in Boston. May I conclude your situation remains unaltered? Also, you asked me about the domestic life, and I didn't think of asking about yours. Since Noah is no longer in the picture, have you been lucky enough to find yourself falling in love again?_

 _You don't need to answer these questions right now. You see, I'm merely exposing them as proof that we could use some more talking, if you'd like. Truth is I really enjoy your company, Quinn, and I'm sad that we failed to become the great friends I always knew we could be._

 _I'm still convinced that we can, so I have a proposition for you: how would you feel about coming to my opening night next July 9_ _th_ _? Tickets are my treat, as well as accommodation. Unless you want to book yourself an hotel – either way, I'll be happy if you joined me, my husband, Kurt and the gang on the party afterward the performance that Saturday_ _night_ _. Also, if you'd like to stay one day more, I'll be free on Sunday and we should enjoy a great time in the city._

 _Looking forward to hearing from you,_

 _Rachel._


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys! Thank you all for reading and reviewing, I'm overwhelmed by the great response the first chapter got! It did encourage me to dig a little deeper on this, so here's another chapter. Hopefully the story will keep unraveling :) It's a bit angsty, sorry for that, since I don't really enjoy angst that much.

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You know how sometimes you don't really plan on ignoring someone but you end up doing it anyway? Like, when you get an email from your mom and you're _oh so busy_ with school, and work, and whatnot, and you keep making excuses until your mom finally calls, and then you actually have to talk to her?

Well, at least that was Quinn's every other month experience. She appreciated her mom – despite all the craziness, she really did, but there was something about forgetting your parents that felt _just right_ when you were living on your own. Like 'I'm a grown-up now, I stopped needing you a long time ago' – that sort of thing.

To be fair though, Quinn probably didn't appreciate her mother like most people did. But other people hadn't gone through being kicked out of their own home now, had they? But, _oh well_ , that had been a long time ago too.

A long time ago, actually, Quinn was a scared little girl who had been to hell and made it back. And for quite a while, being back didn't feel any better than being locked out of heaven. Being back felt just as wrong as being kicked out, as hopeless.

Funny thing about perspective was that it literally transformed your past. During that period of hopelessness, Quinn had strongly believed the glee club to be her anchor. But now, every time she looked back, the memory of her days in that classroom sank down with the rest of her pain in a heavy blur.

If it had felt right back then, it was hard to recall now. Everything about her high school days resonated as pain, even most of her senior year.

But perspective didn't come that easy. In fact, it had taken Quinn five years of not seeing any of her McKinley peers to realize just how happy she was without them. Well, actually almost four, since it took her half year more to kick Puck out of her life.

She still couldn't quite explain what had brought her to attend Finn's homage. She told herself that maybe she owed Finn to attend at least one of his homages. But she knew that was a lie. Homages were never for the death, but for the living who mourned their absence. And she mourned Finn. She did, probably not like Rachel or Carol, but she did on her own way, and _excuse_ her for needing a chance to find closure.

Closure was often found only by going back to the start – at least that much she had learned from her two years wasted on dating Puck. Wasted, but not regretted, for she had delusionally believed that he was the only person left haunting her from her past.

Apparently not, though. Rachel's message had proven otherwise.

Quinn's first impulse had been to ignore the girl's message, along with her mother's. But then a frightening thought had occurred to her: that maybe Rachel was just as capable to call her on the phone as her mom was. Maybe even more.

 _Dear Rachel,_ Quinn started, then deleted. ' _Dear Rachel', really?_ She argued with herself.

 _Hey Rach_ , she typed instead. _Let's go for casual. Let her down gently_ , she thought. Because she was planning on refusing the offer – as it was only natural. Quinn had no desire to the rebuild a bond with her past.

She had only revisited it to find closure. And now the circle had been closed. End of story. Time to move on.

 _It's nice to hear from you again – and with such exciting news! I believe congratulations are in order :)_

Quinn read the two sentences, satisfied. She had succeeded to create a light mood, an easiness. Now came the blow. _Let's try an 'unfortunately' – those never do wrong_ , she thought.

 _Unfortunately, I'll be traveling the first weeks of July_

Which wasn't entirely a lie. Quinn intended to travel at some point of the summer.

Then another frightening thought came to mind: Rachel was also very capable of giving her an 'extension' on the invite. And, if Quinn was not mistaken, those Broadway shows used to run for more than one month. _Damn it,_ didn't they run like, for years?

 _Keep it vague, Fabray_ , she thought as she typed in.

 _Unfortunately, I'll be traveling this summer._

At least that would cut Quinn some slack. Two or three months. She was already playing victory drums on her head when a ring of the phone startled her.

 _Dear God._ It was Rachel, wasn't it? She hadn't been fast enough to reply and now she had to reject the brunette with actual words and sounds.

The caller ID sent her off, though. It read 'Santana', which was odd enough. Quinn couldn't remember the last time the two of them had got on the phone. It might have been for Mr. Schue's failed wedding – maybe even before that.

"Santana?" Quinn answered right away, nevertheless. This might be important. "What's- Is everything okay?"

At the end of the other line, Quinn heard noises of someone chewing, and some R&B playing on the background.

"The dwarf called. Said you're going" the Latina girl commented with such spontaneity that it felt unpleasantly familiar.

As if they had talked on the phone only yesterday, or every other day before that. As if they were still in high school.

Quinn's stomach twirled. _Are you fucking kidding me?_

"What?" Quinn almost screamed. "How-?"

"Told you, Brit" Santana interrupted Quinn's babbling. "She's still full of shit."

"Who is?" Brittany asked with a sleepy voice.

"The dwarf" Santana replied tiredly, while she indulged on more noisy chips, which made Quinn put some distance between the phone and her.

"Don't call her that" Brittany called her wife out. "You saw her the other day – she's grown at least two inches."

"Like hell she has" Santana argued. "It was those tacky wedding heels. Who the hell wears wedding heels to a glee club reunion?! I'll tell you who: the one who's bitter that not enough glee kids got to see 'em" she joked maliciously.

"Santana" Quinn interrupted her, losing her patience. "Is there a point to this call?"

"Is that Quinn?" Brittany came ahead. "Quinn! We miss you! When are you coming to see Lord Tubbington? He's still saving himself for you."

"Oh, please – that cat has of a saint what Quinn herself has" Santana commented with unhidden disgust. Then got silent. "Huh. Maybe it's a good match, then."

"Great!" Brittany exclaimed cheerily. "We'll bring him to New York, Quinn!"

"Whoa, whoa – slow down, Brit. We're not going" Santana said, dignified.

"Yeah, and neither am I" Quinn was quick to add.

"You're sure?" Santana asked, with a subtle hint of irony. "'Cause I think someone has already prepared a bedroom and sewed pillow cases with the words BFF, and plans on taking you on long walks through Central Park under the moonlight" she laughed then.

 _That's enough_. Quinn hung up.

"Fuck."

Santana took everything as an opportunity for joking, but she didn't understand the half of it.

Rachel. BFF. _Just NO!_

It wasn't like Quinn had something against Rachel, no – at least not particularly. But Rachel wasn't just another glee kid either. And some glee kids were easier to handle than others.

"This is why I can't be nice to people!" Quinn exclaimed to the room, then let her head fall over the desk.

Just for the sake of distracting herself from finishing that goddamn message – let's say it was among life's infinite whims to have Quinn stranded on an island with a glee kid. Because who said life had had enough with her? Everything seemed to point at the opposite conclusion. So let's say life had it its way, as per usual, and Quinn was to spend the rest of her days on a piece of hell.

Hell would be a lighter cross to bear in the company of a Sam, for instance. A simple, mostly kind, light-hearted person, who wouldn't try and dig too deep and would mostly be satisfied with the eventual screw.

Now, how would anyone survive a life-time on a stranded island in the company of a Rachel Berry? They wouldn't – of course they wouldn't. If there was something Quinn remembered quite clearly about the girl, that was her intensity. That restless need to excel at everything – even at friendships! _Dear Lord,_ couldn't the girl take a hint? Maybe they hadn't become friends because it wasn't meant to be. But the girl would keep on trying – that was for sure. The girl would ask, and inquire, and wouldn't stop for her life until she got to know everything there was to know about Quinn Fabray.

And God knew that 'the eventual screw' wouldn't suffice.

 _I mean_ , if two people were to spend the rest of their lives alone, stranded on an island, Quinn supposed sex would come up at some point. And Rachel didn't strike her as someone who would settle for a quick ride. _Good God,_ the girl would probably want to excel at that too, _right?!_

" _What the fuck-?!"_ Quinn lifted her head from the table almost with a spasm. _Was it really necessary to picture that?_ She told herself, annoyed.

For a moment, though, she considered the possibility that she was just being dramatic. That with the play, and the gang, and the party – there wouldn't even be enough time for Rachel to get _intense_ in New York.

But then again something told her she was being naive. That Rachel was an 'all or nothing' kind of girl and that going to New York would be just the start of the next crucible life had planned for her.

And Quinn had fought _so_ hard to keep her life simple. In fact, she kind of lived in an island. She was _alone_ , and she liked it.

Life in Boston was easy. She was good at her job and she knew it – everyone at court knew it, and she loved that. She was respected for her intelligence and good judgment – not for her good looks or cold stares.

In Boston, Quinn didn't have to be terrified that no one would take her seriously. And life was good without the drama as well. No more heartbreaks, no more mean girls, no more people.

Some might say she carried a secluded life – but _God_ , did she enjoy it.

Truth was Quinn didn't have the energy to be screwed over anymore. Not that she believed Rachel capable of doing that – the girl probably meant well. But most days Quinn didn't even feel like discussing the weather, let alone engaging on deep talks about the past, the future, or whatever equally intense thoughts Rachel might have in mind.

If Quinn were to rebuild a bond with her past, she would go for a Sam, or a Brittany. But not a Rachel. Rachel had always felt like too much – and Quinn didn't even know why, because they hadn't been friends for that long. But the girl had a way to look through you that just- _just_ _no._

"No, not Rachel" she mumbled, getting up. "Just… not Rachel."

Thankfully, a soft barking on her back took Quinn out of her thoughts. Frida, her loving bulldog, stood there with the most innocent of faces.

"I know, I know" Quinn left her studio and went to the living room, looking for the leash, "I could use the walk too."

/

So that was how, without _really_ planning on it, Quinn ended up ignoring Rachel's message. She knew she had to do something about it, before it was too late, but she just kept failing to find an easy exit.

After two days of mild head-ache, Quinn decided to stand her ground and reassert her commitment to leading an extremely non complicated life. And that included deciding not to decide.

Naturally, it wasn't long until she got a call from Rachel herself. Quinn considered letting the phone ring, and for a few seconds, she did, but it didn't make her feel any better. She took a deep breath then.

"Hello?" Quinn answered, adopting a clueless tone.

"Hello, Quinn. This is Rachel" Rachel articulated with perfect tempo. It used to annoy Quinn how smooth and melodic Rachel's voice always sounded. Something twirled funnily in her stomach. "Rachel Berry" the brunette added then, as if Quinn wouldn't be able to place her otherwise.

"Hi, Rachel" Quinn said calmly, trying to sound cheery. "How are y-"

Frida's loud barking at some silly cat that always lurked the neighborhood interrupted her.

"Hush Frida!" The blond got up and closed the door to the balcony. "Don't make such a fuss!"

Quinn heard a soft giggle from the end of the line. "You've got a dog?" Rachel asked, with a swallowed 'aw' that Quinn could almost sense.

"A little pain in the ass, that's what I've got with this fussy lady" Quinn called her dog out, petting its belly playfully.

"Aww" this time Rachel couldn't help herself, apparently. "Oh" she startled suddenly, "then we're also gonna need some kind of mattress for her. I suppose we could arrange that" she said more to herself than to Quinn.

Quinn panicked. So the girl just plainly assumed she was going to New York? Um, _what?_

"Rachel, listen-"

"… but not to worry, we could borrow Brian's old bed, I know they have it stored somewhere… That's Kurt and Blaine's dog, Brian- I'm sure he'll make a lovely companion to your Frida. I myself don't have any pets, and I'll admit it: I don't think I could. Not just because Jesse can't even keep track of his own-"

"Rachel!" Quinn shouted then, slightly annoyed. What the hell was going on? The girl shut up, fortunately. "Rachel, what are you doing? I mean- I haven't even replied to your message, for Christ's Sake." Bitchy Quinn was showing, she knew that, but _God_ , sometimes the situation called for it.

There was an awkward and tense silence between the two girls then.

"I know" Rachel finally said, kind of unaffectedly. "And… that's okay. I've always been an ambitious person and you've never been an easy person to win over, I didn't forget that. In fact, I'd be also a tad disappointed if you were now" the girl said, to Quinn's surprise.

It felt oddly good and also unsettling to have someone remembering your words down to the last detail. It had been three weeks since the glee club reunion.

Quinn didn't really know what to say. She saw no way out of Rachel's sudden whim, and it scared her how powerless she was feeling.

"Rachel, you know there's no hard feelings between us, and I only wish you the best, but I just… You can't just call someone you haven't seen in five years and expect everything to remain the same. Or worse, to have grown stronger, because let me remind you we were never that close in the first place."

"I can't refute the facts, I agree" Rachel said only two seconds later, disturbingly calmed. "And I apologize to you, Quinn, because I realize I've made you feel uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I always get carried away by my own hopes and expectations, and sometimes I miss the point. I didn't call you to talk about pets or about how I feel it was a little rude that you didn't reply to my message; I called you to make my case, if you would like to hear it" the brunette said on a single breath, not missing a beat. It dizzied Quinn how fast she always talked.

"To make your case?" Quinn asked, slightly exasperated by the usual formality of Rachel's words. They hadn't been in each other lives for more than half an hour in the last month, and Quinn was being reminded already of all those little quirks and flaws she used to disdain so much about the brunette before they became "friends". Quotation marks highly needed.

"To explain why the sudden urge to resume our friendship" the girl clarified, although it was rather unnecessary. Then she added on a somewhat embarrassed note: "I thought you might appreciate the legal argot."

Quinn couldn't suppress a chuckle. The situation was unreal. "All right" she said, knowing she would regret it later. "Make your case, then" she gave in. _Let's get this over with_.

"I'll keep it short, I promise" Rachel said convinced, although they both knew that was quite unlikely.

Then, as the dramatic tension built up, it fell unexpectedly flat as Rachel kept silent. Quinn only heard the eventual 'hmm' during at least half a minute.

"Rachel?" Quinn asked, confused.

"I'm still here" the brunette assured her. "I just… I had a long and thorough speech prepared on how our lives were inevitably interconnected and how- how only you and me could help each other heal some bruises, but- now… Now it feels rather arrogant" she admitted, probably ashamed, though Quinn couldn't tell with precision. "I feel like I just gave you a bad synopsis, but that was pretty much the important stuff. I think I actually spared you the rambling."

Quinn didn't know whether to laugh or to feel offended. She felt uncomfortable as hell, that much she was certain. And yet, there was something about Rachel that felt comfortable at the same time. Familiar, you might say. But their lives, _interconnected?_ That was arrogant indeed.

"Rachel" she took a deep breath, trying not to lose her temper. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'd dare to say you're just plainly wrong, but I can't even see where you're coming from with all of this. It's more delusional than it is arrogant" Quinn said, somewhat coldly. But she wasn't having it with Rachel's annoying need to meddle in other people's lives and making it all about herself.

Rachel lost some of her vehemence. "Delusional?" She asked, probably rhetorically. "I see" she mumbled, coyly. Quinn could tell she was making her feel intimidated. It felt good to regain the upper hand on her life. "But you said it yourself, Quinn. You asked me: _Have we_ _finally_ _closed the circle now?_ What did you mean then, if not that we… that we're both part of something- some creepy cycle of some sort?"

Quinn had no response for that. _Damn man-hands_ , she hadn't remembered how careful one ought to be with her words around Rachel. The girl was too literal, too tireless, too inquisitive.

"Well, I didn't expect you to take it so goddamn literally, Rachel" Quinn snorted, uncomfortable. "I meant that giving away a baby sucked for me and that it freaked me out that you, of all people, would deliberately and happily choose it."

"That's fair enough" Rachel said after a few seconds. "But I still believe you implied something else, even if at a subconscious level."

 _My God, she won't give up!_ Quinn was exasperated."Damn it, Rachel. So what if I did? What do you want from me here? Do you want me to go over all that again? What for? Don't you think I've had enough of that?"

"Oh- God, no, Quinn, no!" Rachel rushed to add, alarmed, trying to fix the tension. "Of course not! I would never put you in that position, Quinn. God, I- I'm doing a very poor job at expressing myself clearly today, I don't know what's wrong with me" the brunette lamented, probably mad at herself. "I just thought you could use someone in your life who knows what you've been through, someone you can talk to about all of this when you need it. A friend. That was all."

"You don't know what I've been through" Quinn said, trying to fight the anger that threatened to show on her voice. "And you're just making things worse, Rachel. I know you mean well, but feeling sympathy for me doesn't automatically make you that person you're describing. I don't even know why you would want that, but you can't be. Friendship doesn't work like that."

Rachel fell silent again for a few seconds. Quinn felt the anger rising inside her.

The girl finally spoke. "I'm not going to discuss why anyone would want to be friends with anyone. That sounds a little like self-esteem issues to me. But wanting to be that person should count for something. If you don't acknowledge that about me, then I hope you find it in your heart to do it with the next person who wants to care for you, Quinn" the girl exhaled, her tone shining much lower than usual. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Take care."

She hung up. She _fucking_ hung up, and she even had the nerve to sound pissed!

"Argh!" Quinn threw the phone against the sofa, completely mad. "The nerve!"

 _Damn Rachel Berry_. "Damn her!" Quinn screamed, pacing up and down her living room. So much for leading an extremely non complicated life. So much.

This was why she couldn't have someone like Rachel in her life. No one's life could be easy with that inquisitive and arrogant girl. To pretend that she knew what Quinn had been through...

"The nerve!"

Seriously, what kind of people spent five years without talking to each other and then had a not-even-ten-minute conversation of such tension? Rachel was exhausting, it didn't matter how well she supposedly meant.

But it did matter, at some level, and that was what pissed Quinn out the most. The fact that the freakishly annoying girl meant well. That she had no problem to admit that she cared about Quinn, even after all this time.

But how dared Rachel lecture her? What did she know about Quinn, really? Why did she assume Quinn had no friends she could go to? That was just plain rude, and arrogant, and-

"The nerve" Quinn mumbled lower this time, to herself, as she opened her wardrobe. She startled. What was she doing looking at her evening gowns and cocktail dresses?

One thing she knew for certain: she wasn't going to Rachel's opening night. She wasn't.


End file.
